“I—oh, I cannot be of any use to you. I am leaving Havre early next month.”
Marowsko took off his spectacles, so great was his agitation.
“You! You! What are you saying?”
“I say that I am going away, my poor friend.”
The old man was stricken, feeling his last hope slipping from under him, and he suddenly turned against this man, whom he had followed, whom he loved, whom he had so implicitly trusted, and who forsook him thus.
He stammered out:
“You are surely not going to play me false—you?”
Pierre was so deeply touched that he felt inclined to embrace the old fellow.
“I am not playing you false. I have not found anything to do here, and I am going as medical officer on board a Transatlantic passenger boat.”
“O Monsieur Pierre! And you always promised you would help me to make a living!”